


Ice

by liwsecretsanta



Category: Rational Creatures (Web Series)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:34:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21915313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liwsecretsanta/pseuds/liwsecretsanta
Summary: A LIW Secret Santa gift for Jessamyn!
Relationships: Ana Elías/Fred Wentworth
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	Ice

Ana Elías had fond memories of Christmas the year she was seventeen. She’d been floating on air all month, awash in the delight of her first holiday season with a real boyfriend. Ana had filmed herself and Fred baking cookies and caroling and joking around in ugly sweaters. She’d been so excited to share every perfect moment with her viewers, and to re-watch them herself, to prove that they were- that _Fred_ was- real.

It had been nice while it lasted.

Now, eight years later, Ana was sitting in her new room, in her sister’s house, on the same bedspread she’d had since high school. There were the same art posters scattered around the white walls, the same weak sunlight filtering through the window. The camera sat collecting dust on her bookshelf, and there was no mistletoe above the door. It was 2019, and Ana was alone.

The memory of her teenage joy was like a fading bruise, the pain bubbling up only when pressed. And now Fred Wentworth, travel writer, ex-boyfriend, was in her house and pressing on her bruise.

It was torture. Fred was clearly avoiding her, his eyes looking past her whenever they met, his hand on the small of Louis Musgrove’s back speaking louder than any words. Fred had moved on, a long time ago. Now, he was moving forward. Ana knew she should be happy for them; Louis was a great guy, and Fred deserved great.

It was stupid, really, for a 26-year-old woman to still have feelings for the first boy she dated back in high school. She didn’t even really know Fred anymore, Ana told herself as she scanned the paperwork she’d brought with her, pay be damned. She was going to make herself useful whether her family wanted it or not.

And it wasn’t like Fred could possibly be the same naive, ambitious, sensitive boy she used to love, after so long. Any emotion was long gone from her heart. You just never really stop being attracted to some people, that’s all.

The Kellynch documents she was working on felt heavy in her hands as she struggled to focus, circling and crossing out any grammatical or factual errors with a thin red Sharpie. What must Fred think of her, still doing the job she’d first started at fifteen? Same old boring Ana.

 _Well,_ she thought. _He’s right._

Most 25-year-olds didn’t still live with their sister, or work for their Papi. Her old classmates were actually living life: winning awards, getting promotions, becoming engaged and having babies left and right. Most people didn’t fail to make friends or take risks during college, didn’t forego study abroad scholarships because they were needed at home. Ana was single, had few friends and a ghost-town of a resume. Even being an Executive Assistant at Kellynch meant doing some of the same proofreading and clerical work she’d always done for her father’s company, just alongside her many other responsibilities.

Ana knew she’d chosen this. She’d chosen her family over herself, time and again, dutiful daughter with the marketing degree and disciplined, regimented daily schedule. Marisol and her wife Charlie might be Ana’s only friends, but they had always been enough, even though they required their privacy more and more these days. Funny, how she hadn’t realized she was lonely until the great Fred Wentworth came barging back through her doorway, entourage in tow.

She had been so excited, at seventeen, to experience life alongside Fred, even if he did have to talk her into it, sometimes. Like the day Fred insisted ice skating would make a great video for the channel, and an even better date.

“I don’t know, Fred, I haven’t skated in years,” Ana had protested. “What if one of us twists an ankle? And I don’t even own skates!”

“Oh, come on, it will be an adventure!” Fred had beamed, already pulling her towards the doorway where their winter coats hung waiting. “We can rent skates there, and I can teach you. Don’t worry so much, Ana.”

She couldn’t say no. They had gone ice skating that day, and it was an adventure. Ana could still feel the cold biting at her face as she beamed at Fred, then beardless and pink-cheeked as well. She remembered him twirling her across the ice, her heart skipping several breathless beats. She had never felt so free.

At one point, Ana had fallen, hard, on her butt. Fred had been at her side immediately, helping her to stand, supporting her as she caught her breath. She’d felt like a princess being lifted to her feet, with his arms around her. They’d gone home for hot chocolate, and Ana had kissed him, laughing, tasting the melted marshmallow on his tongue.

“Ana,” he’d said later, staring down at the monogrammed leather travel journal she’d had made. “This is the nicest gift I’ve ever been given, but not as nice as you.”

“You’d better not write about me in there, that’s all,” she’d teased.

“All good things, I promise.”

Ana can’t imagine that Fred ever wrote anything positive about her in those pages after all. She’d been so sure, back then, that she would be with him when he documented his travels. And then life had happened, and Fred had left without her. As she’d told him he should.

In a few hours, she knew, the Elías-Musgroves’ 2019 Christmas party would begin. Marisol would be basking in the adoration of her friends, and Louis would be feeding Fred bites of sugar cookie and hanging on his every word about Guatemala, and knowing her sister-in-law, Ana expected the two young men would likely find themselves under a fresh sprig of mistletoe by night’s end.

And Ana would be there on the sidelines, quietly averting her eyes, clearing plates and making herself useful. She would be happy for them, Marisol and Charlie and Louis and even Frederick Wentworth.

Maybe she had regrets. Maybe she had pain, and heartache, and humiliation. But she also had hard work, and discipline, and the memory of twirling across silken ice, perfectly crystallized and waiting just out of reach. Why shouldn’t she enjoy it?

Just maybe, after the party was over and everyone had left her alone again, Ana would let herself be selfish. Maybe she would take herself out ice skating.


End file.
